Page 38 of Claiming His Bunny
“Ethan Bennett? Why?”
Michelle sighs. “Somehow, he knows Victoria hired Ethan to get evidence against him. So now he thinks Ethan planted those cameras inside his house and leaked the video. Ethan can take care of himself, but you’re a woman who lives alone.”
“Do you think Ethan did it?” I ask, ignoring her mention of me living alone.
I don’t really live alone, do I? I have a guardian stalker. If he was willing to kill my best friend’s abusive ex just to get on my good side, I’m sure he’s going to protect me from Benjamin Adams. And if he kills him in the process…well, I won’t weep over Benjamin Adams’ death.
“Ethan?” Michelle asks incredulously. “Of course not! He’s like the most law-abiding person in the entire town! I bet he's never even gotten a parking ticket. He’d never break into someone’s house. But listen, Kayla, you shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Waving my hand dismissively, I grab my purse and a stack of printed case files. “I’ll be fine. I don’t think Adams would be that stupid to come bother me. If he does, I’ll call the police immediately. Don’t worry about me, Michelle. I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”
At home, a fresh bouquet of flowers greets me. My stalker is adamant about giving me flowers, and who am I to refuse?
I grin at the box of chocolate on my pillow in my once-again neatly made bedroom. Seriously, this guy would make a fortune running a cleaning service.
How am I supposed to hate him when he does all these things for me?
How am I supposed to be afraid of him when I feel safe knowing someone’s watching over me?
How am I supposed to resist him?
Chapter 22
Ethan
I think I mighthave died and gone into heaven. Which, of course, is ridiculous. Serial killers don’t go to heaven.
Even so, for the past week, I’ve been happier than ever.
Benjamin Adams lost his son, his friends, his social standing, and his career. His fancy lawyers were somehow able to dispel the child abuse charges against him so he’s not going to jail, which works in my favor. Adams is about to move out of the town and once he does, he and I will have a long, long chat. However, the idea of Adams’ suffering, though satisfying, is not the main reason for my happiness. The real reason is Kayla.
My bunny is not afraid of me anymore. She accepts my gifts with a smile. Thanks me for keeping her house tidy. Reads my notes on her cases and uses them to make children’s lives better. Sometimes, she even talks to me.
I think she suspects I have cameras in her house, but aside from that one evening after I cleaned her bathroom, she never tried looking for them again. She talks to me as if she knows I am listening, though. It started with a mumbled “thank you” and quickly evolved into long monologues she delivers while working, eating, scrolling her social media, or even brushing her teeth. I’m dying to turn those monologues into dialogues, but I still need to be patient.
Would she scream if I just showed up at her house one day? I don’t think so, but it’s the small possibility of being wrong that’s stopping me from doing it. Besides, I’m learning so much about her from her talks.
She’s a stubborn one, my bunny. Once she sets her mind on something, there’s no stopping her. But she’s also caring and loving, with a heart so big it could easily encompass the entire world. She loves children, and working at CPS is more than just a job for her. It’s a calling, a meaning of life. All she wants is to make children’s lives better.
I fucking love this woman.
Every night, we cuddle in her bed. I’ve slightly lowered the dosage of the sleeping drug in her tea, so while she’s still asleep the entire time I spend with her, her sleep doesn’t resemble unconsciousness anymore. She’s reactive, groaning in pleasure when I warm her icy cold feet, and subconsciously snuggling closer to me.
I love holding her and touching her. Yes, I admit I touch her. I’m not a fucking saint.
Tonight, I’m definitely not a saint. As I hold Kayla in my arms, my hand finds its way under her nightgown. I run my fingers up her stomach, feeling her smooth skin pebble with goosebumps under my touch. Her breast fits perfectly in my hand as I cup it, and when I roll her nipple between my fingers, Kayla moans.
I keep teasing her, alternating between the hardened peaks, eliciting more sounds of pleasure from her. Even in her sleep, she leans into my touch, a murmured plea for more escaping her luscious lips.
Since her wish is my command, I kiss my way down her neck and suck on her nipple through the silky fabric of her nightgown. My hand moves lower and lower, until I encounter the neatly trimmed hair guarding my bunny’s greatest treasure.
I shouldn’t be touching her like this, but I can’t stop myself. Plus, she asked for it, didn’t she? Sure, she probably thinks this is merely a spicy dream, but she did ask for more, and I’m ready to deliver. My cock is ready, too, but it will have to wait for another time.
I nudge her legs open and she obliges, a smile playing on her lips, even though her eyes are still closed. I cup her warm pussy, surprised by how wet she is already. Wet for me. My bunny truly is the perfect woman for me.
Gently parting her pussy lips, I run my fingers between them. Circling around her clit earns me another moan. I experiment with different ways to touch her, from featherlight touches to rubbing, from letting my fingers roam around to going straight for the prize. I memorize every motion that makes her moan and shiver, each one that has her hips moving against my hand.
I’m not sure if she can orgasm while asleep, but I’m ready to test that theory.
